IN December 1876 the British Channel Fleet sailed from Gibraltar, intending to spend the Christmas at Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, a voyage that under ordinary circumstances would have taken about four or five days, but, He who rules the elements saw fit to bring about that which caused it to be twenty-one days instead of four or five.
On the second or third day (I cannot remember which) the mighty deep was lashed into foaming billows by a gale of wind so furious, so terrific, that ships of twelve and fourteen thousand tons’ displacement were tossed about like cork upon its surface, reminding one of Psa. 107 —
“They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.
For He commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof.
They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble.
They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit’s end.
Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them out of their distresses.
He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.
Then they are glad because they be quiet, so He bringeth them unto their desired haven.”
But sad to relate, there were hundreds in that fleet who knew not God and trusted not in Him — one especially to whom this narrative refers, an officer and a thorough seaman, one against whom, as to his duties, no one could point a finger, but who “feared not God, neither regarded man.” Handsome, proud, austere, and an infidel, such was Lieutenant M—, serving in the same ship with the writer.
I will now endeavor to relate what to me and others in that ship appeared a direct warning from God, and the sad sequel seemed to warrant our convictions. The storm increased in violence to such an extent that the fleet could no longer be kept under the control of the flag-ship, so the admiral made the signal that each captain should act independently and do his best to save his own ship.
Lieutenant M—, after a weary four hours’ watch on deck, retired to the wardroom, and seating himself at the table and resting his head upon his arms, endeavored to get a little rest. Just at that moment a large skylight about twenty feet above him was forced out of its frame, and falling, struck the table within three or four inches of his head, covering him with broken glass and wood; had it struck him it must have caused instant death, as it weighed probably two or three hundredweight.
And now, my dear reader, before I relate the remainder of this sad story, I earnestly desire to bring before you a few verses from the inspired Word of God―
“For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not....
He keepeth back his soul from the pit, and his life from perishing by the sword...
If there be a messenger with Him, an interpreter, one among a thousand....
Then He is gracious unto him, and saith, Deliver him from going down to the pit: I have found a ransom” (Job 33:14-24).
This same merciful, long-suffering God has assuredly spoken to you, my interested reader, as he did to Lieutenant M—, and yet you have not perceived it; is it then with you as the prophet declares of Israel, “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved”? (Jer. 8:20). Listen to that compassionate heart pouring forth its lamentation over that same people six hundred years later: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not” (Luke 13:34). This is the same One who is saying unto you, “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). Will you not listen to His beseeching voice and accept His offered mercy? And now, listen while I relate the rest.
His narrow escape from death made no lasting impression upon Lieutenant M—. He repented not, but turned to “his course as a horse rusheth into the battle.” About the twentieth day the storm began to abate; then were our hearts glad, and we were enabled to get into Lisbon. The next day we prepared to refit and make good damages; the order was given to send down from aloft studding-sail booms — a large heavy spar that is run out on the yard for setting an extra sail in light breezes. Lieutenant M — took up his position on the forecastle, and at the word of command the men sprang aloft; the booms were topped, the word to lower away was given, when suddenly the foremost topsail boom slipped from the fastening made by the rope on the end for lowering, and in falling struck Lieutenant M—on the forehead, the place which the heavy skylight had just missed. It was an awful sight, and I can dwell no longer upon it — death was instantaneous — and yet, constrained by the love of Christ, I would beseech you, if unsaved, to be reconciled to God, for it is written: “Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God. For He hath made Him (Christ) to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him” (2 Cor. 5:20, 21).
Oh ye men who plough the mighty deep, whose wanderings compass the world around, who say, Yet another voyage and I will coil up my ropes and anchor on shore; let me beseech you to “boast not thyself of tomorrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth” (Prov. 27:1).
Flee for refuge, lay “hold upon the hope set before you: which hope we have as an Anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the vail” (Heb. 6:19). God’s comforting words to those who believe on His Son are, “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast” (Eph. 2:8, 9).
W. S.